Finding the Nomads
by THE STAR FREEDOM
Summary: SEQUEL to "Young Pilgrims" - Eight years after her victory in the 67th Hunger Games, Capri Covell is forced back into the arena that led to her emotional imprisonment by the Capitol. However, this time is different. There is a stirring and a whisper in the districts of rebellion. Where will Capri find herself in this fight for justice?
1. One

**Hey guys! This is the sequel to my story "Young Pilgrims" and I will try to make it where you don't HAVE to read the first, but I don't know 1) how well I am going to be at that or 2) if it will even work in the least, so I would personally go and check out the prequel to this. Without further ado, here is the first chapter of "FINDING THE NOMADS."**

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**CHAPTER ONE**

I am talking with Sara, sitting on the couch in Finnick's living room, watching the mandatory viewing with Annie, Finnick, and Mags when President Snow stands before Panem with the small square of paper in his hands.

"In the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

Annie lets out a shriek, and her hands cover her ears. Finnick is comforting her. Mags is gasping her chest. I would be by her side asking her if she was okay if I could speak.

With one glance around the room, I know that I have to go back.

"Capri," Sara whispers to me, but the only thing I can focus on is Annie's hysterical crying. Sara's hand clasps the two of mine. Suddenly the eight years that seemed like such a great expanse of time yesterday now seem like a week ago. All the voices and memories that I had blocked out came flooding in: Mason's goodbye, Ceaser's cries for mercy, the tributes that I've mentored meeting their deaths, hearing their cries of horror and for mercy.

I look at Sara with silent smile before leaving the house as quickly as I could, across to my house and down to the beach. I find myself sitting in the ocean, staring into the horizon, breathing in the salty air. Breath by breath, the sounds of the ocean calm me down. I don't know how long I'm there, but I know it's darker when Finnick sits down beside me.

"So we're gonna go back," it's not a question; I just feel like if I say it out loud he might correct me and tell me I imagined the entire broadcast.

"You don't hav-"

"Yes," I cut Finnick off, "I do. I couldn't sit and watch Mags die in the arena, and I certainly couldn't make you go into the arena with Annie." I pick up a seashell that had washed ashore, rolling it about in my hands, "I'm not just doing it for you . . . I'm doing it for me too." I stand up, and with all the force I can manage, I launch the shell back into the ocean. "We should probably start training."

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**A/N: Once again, I hope you all are enjoying this story. Thank you to everyone who commented, favorite, and followed since the last update. **

**If you don't like something about my story, I would love to know what it is. Please leave a review about what you do and don't like about what I'm writing so that I can get better. Thank you and have a splendid day!**


	2. Two

**CHAPTER TWO**

I wake up in a sweat, clutching the duvet in my hands.

I close my eyes in an attempt to calm my heavy breathing.

Slowly, once my breathing has evened out, I get out of bed and pad down the stairs to get a glass of water. I pull a glass from a cupboard and fill it with water from the sink.

_I returned home from the Capitol after watching my fifth set of tributes die. I open the door, still chatting to Finnick, who is walking hand in hand with Annie towards his own home. When I open the door, a horrid stench fills my nose, and a frightened scream leaves my lips._

The shattering glass pulls me back to the present. It's been nearly two and a half years since I had returned home -after refusing a Capitolian's request- to find Henry strung up in a net with a trident spearing his body.

With shaking hands, I sweep up the glass and put it remnants into the trash bin.

Angry and upset at myself for slipping back into the past, I run back up the stairs and change into some clothes fit for activity, and proceed to run as far as I can from my home in the Victor's Village. When I get tired and see the sun rising above the horizon, I run back to the Victor's Village.

For the next months, Finnick and I train each other. And like everyone else, we whisper about the possibility of a rebellion. A rebellion would be the best thing for both of us. If we could cut President Snow from his position and therefore his power, we and the other Victors would be liberated from our puppet strings.

When the flowers begin to bloom, the leaves turn green, and the days get hot, I start to get anxious. I train harder and longer and more alone because I make Finnick spend time with Annie. Not that there's really much "making" to be done. I only have to mention it twice, and they're in each other's arms again.

"This is different," I said one afternoon to Finnick. Annie is with Mags at the town center gathering food for our last meal together in District 4. Of course, they'll both come to the Capitol with us, but it wouldn't be the same without us at the cusp of the ocean. Here there were no avoxes, no Capitolians to please. Here there was freedom. "We're going to know these people, Finn . . . and with the talk of a rebellion . . ."

"We can't make it different."

"Finnick, how could y-"

"Cap, each time one of those other victors dies, someone else is closer to victory. Every person that dies by someone else's hand is someone that I don't have to kill." Finnick sat by my side, but I didn't see him because I had my head hidden in my hands. "Capri, we're going to be by each other's side through the arena . . . no one else stands a chance against us."

I know he's smiling. I can hear it in the inflection of his voice. His hands run across my back in an effort to comfort me.

"I'll keep you safe, Cap."

* * *

The next morning, I feel numb. I can't make myself put on a smile for the Capitol cameras that will be at the Reaping because I'm angry at them for putting me back in the arena. I had survived, and I had escaped. Now I had to go back to the place where Mason died, where I killed Ceaser, and where my imprisonment began.

The actual reaping takes only a few minutes. Eudora has to use a stool to reach the bottom of the bowl and grasps one of the three pieces in her fingers.

"I volunteer." The words roll effortlessly off my tongue when she says Annie's name. I kiss Annie's head, a sad smile covering my face as I walk to center stage by Eudora. When Finnick gets on the stage, he embraces me before the Peacekeepers drag us away to the train.

I know that if I can, I have to make him win. To get him back home, back to Annie.

When we get on the empty Capitol train, Finnick doesn't let Annie leave his side until we get off hours later.

I follow Finnick onto the train, but stop near the doorway to watch him and Annie. They always amazed me, yet didn't surprise me at all because they were perfect together. Neither was perfect on their own -each were far from it- but together –Finnick's words, Annie's kindness- they constantly pulled each of their vastly different pieces together to make a practically perfect whole. I remember meeting Annie for the first time when her name was drawn at a Reaping Ceremony. We treated her like all of the others that we've gone through, but she treated us unlike all the others had treated us. Through the week that we trained her, she slowly crept up on each of us. Her unraveling began when she saw her partner beheaded in the Games. When she was crowned the Victor, Mags and Finnick and I immediately took her under our wing.

Mags and I were the best at piecing her back together, which aggravated Finnick slightly. So he spent more time with her -one on one, with Mags, with me- so that he could be there for her if she needed someone and Mags and I weren't there. Annie gravitated towards Finnick slowly. Finnick gravitated towards Annie slowly. She always much better with Finnick than she ever was with Mags or I.

The pair of them just worked for whatever reason, but no one ever questioned it.

Except Finnick. Finnick was the only one that ever questioned if he was good enough to be with Annie, if Annie deserved someone better than him. So in the multiple morning talks over coffee in my kitchen, Finnick came to the conclusion that Mags and I had come to months earlier: that he and Annie were the best match we'd seen.

So watching Finnick take Annie's hand in the Capitol train compartment, walking towards a plush couch with his mouth bent towards her ear to tell her something that would make her giggle brought me immense joy.

It was easy to live vicariously through the two of them. Imagining my savior that would grant me my sanity whenever I was with him. Imagining my savior that would never let me go because he knew what would happen if he did. But I never let myself get too far into the world of imagination before I pulled myself back out again.

Finnick doesn't let Annie leave his side until we get off hours later.

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**A/N: Once again, I hope you all are enjoying this story. Thank you to everyone who commented, favorite, and followed since the last update. **

**Also, thank you to everyone who has supported me throughout my journey, whether it started today or when I started **_**Young Pilgrims **_**a year ago. Thank you.**

**If you don't like something about my story, I would love to know what it is. Please leave a review about what you do and don't like about what I'm writing so that I can get better. Thank you and have a splendid day!**


	3. Three

**CHAPTER THREE**

The Capitol is the same, parties and joyous shouts day and night, citizens that want the company of Finnick and me.

On the fourth floor of the all-too-familiar Training Center, Finnick and I watch a recap of the Reapings in the other districts. I don't have to take notes like I did eight years ago, but I do write down the tributes that Finnick and I will have to face. I know all of them personally –Gloss, Cashmere, Brutus, Enobaria, Beetee, Wiress, Blight, Johanna, Cecelia, Chaff, and Seeder- except for Katniss and Peeta. The star-crossed lovers are new to the Victor pool and will probably be everyone's first target in these games if they don't make friends. Unless . . .

"Finnick," his head pops up from Annie's ear, "we need to talk to Haymitch when they arrive." His confused looks urge me to continue, "If Katniss is still the Mockingjay, then we need to help keep this rebellion alive."

Finnick smiles at me broadly.

* * *

Finnick and I quite literally don't have the time to find Haymitch and speak to him about his Mockingjay. We're sent off to Capitolians, collecting precious secrets, before we're sent to the Remake Center.

There's a new stylist this year. A new prep team. But I can't seem to make myself care about them as I sit while they perfect my hair and make up for the Opening Ceremonies tonight. I can't make myself care about them when I've just come from the home of a gamemaker, the whispers of what happened to Seneca Crane still lingering in my ears.

"_Snow had him killed. For letting the two kids go: the girl on fire and her boyfriend. He disobeyed direct orders to let them kill each other."_

_He curled a piece of my hair around his finger while I lie naked beside him. _

"_Even used those same poison berries."_

Of course, in the past months I'd heard about twelve different stories about how Seneca Crane met his demise.

"Ms. Covell," my head snaps up to the overdone Capitolian that is my new stylist. I haven't bothered myself with learning his name. "I would like to put your dress on you now." His definition of dress and mine are evidently two very different things because his definition of dress is a carefully knotted golden fishnet intertwined with seaweed in various locations like across my breasts and lap.

I shake my head when Finnick is dressed the same way but without the seaweed.

"You look good in pearls," Finnick smirks, switching on the charm. My hair is pulled up and has pearls stuck in various locations. I roll my eyes, taking the sugar cube he offers, "Really, you do." We joke together, bouncing flirts off of each other mindlessly.

We talk to Johanna when she arrives. She, however, doesn't want to talk to anyone most of the time, and tonight is certainly no exception when she is strapped in a tree costume. "God, I thought _I _had it bad." She comments when she sees Finnick and me feeding our horses the sugar cubes that Finnick always seems to have on hand.

"_Don't worry," Plato chuckled, "I won't strap you in a net."_

I shake my head, lifting my head to see Finnick down at Twelve's chariot, offering Katniss a sugar cube. The girl's never looked more disgusted. I wander towards Mags, who is standing by the elevators. She takes my hand, squeezing it gently.

The elevator dings, revealing Haymitch and Peeta. He sees me and starts to say something before I punch him in the shoulder, "Don't." He raises his hands with a smirk and greets Mags. I see Peeta walking towards Katniss and point to where her and Finnick are talking, "Don't you think you should make her more . . . _likeable_. People need to be able to be allies with her if she doesn't want to get killed."

"Harder than it sounds . . . believe me." Haymitch takes a swig of whatever is in his flask. Finnick joins our odd crew, nodding at Haymitch with a smile before taking my hand, twirling me around and walking us to our chariot.

We get on the chariot when Wiress and Beetee approach the pair of us.

_Mason looks up at me, "Finnick told me to tell you to keep your head up, smile, and wave at everyone."_

Wiress and Beetee wave goodbye.

_I'm holding Annie's hand, walking with her to the chariot while James stayed back to talk with Finnick. "Smile, wave, they'll love you."_

"Capri," Finnick says softly beside me, "Where are you?"

It's the question he always asks when this happens to me, when I space out. "With Mason and Annie . . ." I grasp the railing in front of me, "but I'm here now. I'm okay." He takes my hand, and we are pulled into the crowd, screaming as soon as we're rolling out onto the streets of the Capitol. I force down the images and the voices of before by squeezing Finnick's hand. His hand wasn't here the last time that I was.

The citizens get louder when I blow out a few kisses. As we round into the City Circle, I see Katniss and Peeta, merciless and flaming. I suppose they don't have to ally with the _citizens_. President Snow begins to speak. The voices of gamemakers and high-ups reach my ears, about to explode with all of the secrets I know about him, but soon we're being carted back to the Training Center.

We chat with Beetee and Wiress all the way to the elevator and in the short moments we have inside of it. Eudora is awaiting our arrival on the fourth floor of the Training Center with the two stylists, Mags, and Annie. Finnick immediately goes to Annie.

Our servers at dinner are the same Avox girl and boy from last year

Willa sits beside the new stylist whose name I still haven't bothered to learn. Mags sits beside me, talking to me all throughout supper to keep my mind off the Games. Annie is on my other side, throwing random comments towards Mags and I after she drifts off for a moment. Other than that, she and Finnick don't take their eyes off each other. It's like they're trying to soak up as much of the other person as they can before heading into the arena.

* * *

Long after dinner and the recap of the Opening Ceremonies, in a meeting that Finnick had put together in passing with Haymitch, the drunkard appears on our floor to find Finnick and I already whispering of what could be happening with the rebellion.

For the first time in weeks, there are no jolts in my memory because I am so engrossed with the information Haymitch is revealing to us, which isn't much because he's weary as to whether to trust us or not. However, he seems to trust our protection of Katniss enough to tell us that District 13 has been growing underground for quite some time, and they are working with Haymitch and Plutarch Heavensbee, the head gamemaker, to make Katniss the face of their rebellion.

"So Katniss has no idea about this?"

Haymitch shakes his head.

"And you don't _want_ Katniss to know anything about it?"

"She would never agree to it if we told her," Haymitch takes a drink from his flask, "Katniss is insistent upon getting Peeta out of the arena alive . . . which is what I've been assuring her of since the Quarter Quell announcement."

My fingers meet at my scalp as I try to comprehend everything Haymitch had told us.

Finnick speaks up from beside me, "And Plutarch is in on this?"

"He's the one that came to me about the whole thing," Haymitch stands from his seat, "Well, it's been nice talkin' to the two of you, but I need rest to deal with that girl in the morning. Someone's got to tell her to make allies."

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**A/N: Once again, I hope you all are enjoying this story. Thank you to everyone who commented, favorite, and followed since the last update. Also, thank you to everyone who has supported me throughout my journey, whether it started today or when I started **_**Young Pilgrims **_**a year ago. Thank you.**

**If you don't like something about my story, I would love to know what it is. Please leave a review about what you do and don't like about what I'm writing so that I can get better. Thank you and have a splendid day!**


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